


Yours to Take

by Queenie_004



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Marriage Proposal, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 17:14:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15077924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenie_004/pseuds/Queenie_004
Summary: Finn keeps a special box for Rae - he's been waiting years for the right time to ask her to open it.Like all writers I crave feedback! Please share in the comments if you have any and thank you for reading!





	Yours to Take

_you let me into a conversation / a conversation only we could make_  
_you break and enter my imagination / whatever’s in there / it’s yours to take_

He was going to marry her.

He’d known almost from the start when he first fell for her. He’d felt it as sure if it was already decided. He wanted to tell her but it was new and they were young and there was plenty of time. When he was a little boy his Nan had told him to write down his dreams and put them someplace safe to have when they came true. So he wrote it on a piece of paper with the date and stuck it in a tea tin that had been hers:

 _I’m gonna marry Rae Earl_.

But then she broke up with him and crushed his heart. And he couldn’t understand why and was so miserable that he left town because being near her and not being with her was torture and his stupid distractions like dating someone else did nothing to soothe him. Even then deep down there was a small little bit of him that still believed that it could happen even though the odds looked considerably longer.

When they got back together he silently congratulated himself on being right because it wasn’t that he just believed it, he _knew_ it. And he knew it because as his feelings for her intensified, it physically changed him—he became so wildly aware of her presence it was like all his senses were sharply tuned. And her smile made his stomach flutter in a way he had never felt before it made him feel unsteady but powerful at the same time. The wild, dizzy feeling he had when they touched never dimmed and the electricity that zipped through his body when they kissed made him an addict for more.

And so the tin got a few more slips while they were in college and falling in love. He’d write the same five words each time and make a note if it was something special that made him think it:

_Kissed me first before class this morning_

_Made me laugh so hard my belly hurt_

_Looked so bloody cute today I couldn’t stop touchin’ her_

And one in all caps after the first time they slept together:

 _I HAVE NEVER FELT THAT BEFORE IN MY WHOLE FUCKING LIFE_.

He knew she’d go to uni and it was still too soon so he set his sights on after. Those years were turbulent with the distance as she stretched her wings and he clung too tightly. He spent a lot of nights anxiously blowing cigarette smoke out the windows of his flat while going through the tin and waiting for her to call. He still believed he was going to marry her because the thought of not spending the rest of his life with her made his head go blank. He couldn’t envision how it would even look or who would ever interest him after the glorious, complicated, challenging, adorable goddess that was his Rae. There may not have been as many deposits into the tin in those years, but there was really only one that mattered anyway:

 _Movin’ in with her she asked me to come!_ And then a huge ridiculous scrawled happy face.

After she graduated he went and told his dad he was going to propose. His dad loved Rae and he thought he’d be thrilled and run right out for champagne. But instead his dad got serious and kept asking him, “are ya sure?” After some arguing about it (because his temper got the better of him) his dad admitted something that he’d never known: that one of the reasons his mum had given when she’d left them was that she was just too young when she married, she didn’t get to experience more before she was a wife and then a mother. He didn’t want to wait any longer, it had been five years already and he’d known nearly the entire time. But his dad’s words scratched at him so he tore off a piece of paper and wrote:

_I’m gonna marry Rae Earl—but not yet_

He decided after she turned 25 would be the right time and right age. They were living together and both had jobs and two cats and their life was easy and comforting. They already joked about being an old married couple as they often preferred staying home together cooking dinner and making fun of “Top of the Pops” over going out. They had routines and secret jokes and their arguments were less hurtful and they made up faster because they knew much better how to talk to each other. As far as he was concerned it was just a matter of waiting for the perfect moment. And then one night three months before her 25th birthday he came home to find her shivering in cold bath water in a dark bathroom. Her teeth chattered and she didn’t answer his questions as he gently dried her off. He had lay in bed next to her gently stroking her arm until she fell asleep and then called her mum.

For nearly a year after that their lovely life perched precariously close to the edge. Rae was having a relapse of some sort and had to be hospitalized again. He was terrified every moment—of her suffering, of his helplessness, of losing her forever. He visited every day and some days was told she didn’t want to see him and it felt like a fist had tore right through his skin and cracked apart his ribs to get to his heart. Her mum came to stay for a bit and talked him through the darkest parts. He agreed eagerly to attend any sort of counseling her doctors thought he should be part of. He didn’t think about marrying her because he was too busy worrying about her and missing her. Even when he’d see her it was like she wasn’t quite in there, just a shell of his girl. But as the months went on she started to get better. He got to see her every time he went and her eyes started becoming familiar to him again and she talked about coming home. In the back of his mind he knew that marriage was going to have to wait a little longer because the only thing that mattered was Rae getting healthy again and not distracted by anything else.

When she did return home things were uneasy for a while. He fussed over her so much it made her snappy and he didn’t know what to do to make it better. She spent a lot of time trying to talk him out of loving her—she was broken, she’d break again, she couldn’t promise she wasn’t going to make a mess out of it all and leave him hating her, he deserved someone better. They fought a lot because not loving her was so far out of his realm of possibility he almost found it sort of funny. He wanted to propose then as proof of his devotion, even in the midst of the fights and the stress of watching Rae put herself back together. But he didn’t because he remembered so clearly the first time he kissed her in the boy’s locker room and she’d thought it was because he felt sorry for her. He knew she’d reject a “Pity Proposal” and it would be yet another thing to wedge between them so he held on to his tin and bided his time.

Gradually things started to improve. Rae got a medication cocktail that worked and was happier and he practiced not fretting over her so much and they started connecting again and plenty of romantic proposal opportunities arose: they took a mini-break to Scotland where it rained so hard the whole time that they stayed in their room and barely left the bed as they made up for months of lost time. They went to Greece on holiday and got drunk on a moonlit beach and made out all night while gorgeous acoustic guitar music wafted down from a bar up above. There were nice dinners out where rings could have been hidden inside napkins, and even a visit home where sharing it with their friends followed by surprising their parents would have made for a lovely celebration. And it wasn’t that he had changed his mind, but he felt that it would be a moment just like the first time he’d ever had the thought—somehow he would just know that it was time to ask her.

It was a rainy late autumn evening when she came in late from work exhausted and cranky. He was making soup and she went in to take a hot shower. When she came out she was already in her pajamas even though it wasn’t quite half seven. He reached out and she curled against his side as he stirred the pot on the hob. He nuzzled her wet hair and she sighed at the sensations and smells as she circled her arms around his waist. Directing her to take a seat he toasted her bread just the way she liked it, which was barely at all (“Is it even _warm_  girl?” he liked to tease) and drizzled a bit of olive oil and a shake of salt on it as she was on an avoiding butter kick. As they ate she recounted her day—her shitty colleague dumping a load of last minute work on her, a client who wasn’t replying to any messages, plus she missed the bus and had walked home in the pouring rain getting soaked from head to toe. He talked about what he was working on and that he’d been to the record shop so there was some new music for them to listen to after dinner if she was up for it.

When she finished eating she’d reached for his hand across the table and brought it to her lips to kiss murmuring her gratitude for his cooking and generally being “the very best boyfriend in the world” to which he responded that she made it “so easy” and she teased, “whatever happened to that sullen boy I fell in love with?” and releasing his hand she sent him off to get the music on while she got the wine. He did as he was told and she came in with two big glasses and slid down on to the floor beside him with their backs against the settee. She looked over the album covers and he told her some things he’d looked up about the bands online before she got home. This was something they loved to do together and always had—listen to music and really hear it, share their thoughts and argue their opinions and fall in love with lyrics and chords. No one else he’d ever met _lived_ inside of songs like he and Rae did. It was probably the very first thing about her that he loved. His head was resting back and he turned to look at her and her eyes were closed while she held her glass of wine and slowly bobbed her head, a small smile at the corner of her delicious bow lips. He was transfixed for a moment at how perfect the moment was, how he couldn’t imagine anything better than this right here, what he had with his girl on a damp chilly night with a bottle of wine and a stack of good records.

And so he got up slowly and when she looked at him with eyebrows raised he just smiled and went to their bedroom. Coming back he sat down facing her and pushed a small tin box towards her. “What’s this?” she asked, “Open it” he nudged it closer. “You got me tea?” She picked up the box and looked at it curiously. He felt something that he hadn’t felt in a very long time—it was that same thrill braided with an overwhelming sense of safety that he’d had in the very beginning of them. It was all sparks and hugs, intensity that seared his skin mixed with the warmest feeling of being content. He watched as she lifted the lid and peeked inside, “what’s this then?” she reached in and opened several folded strips of paper:

_Sat with me all night at A &E after I skidded off my bike_

_Asked me to come meet her therapist_

_Laughed a lot at a shit joke I made_

_Said she wore her hair down today because she knows how much I like it_

“Finn,” her eyes were wide and voice nearly a whisper as she looked at him, “keep goin’” he urged and she started turning the slips over and a confetti of _I’m gonna marry Rae Earl_ piled on the coffee table and he moved closer to her as her fingers reached for another and found something else instead, “Oh my god” she gasped and he watched as she pulled out his Nan’s engagement ring his dad had given him with a ribbon of five different words laced around it:

_Please marry me Rae Earl_

She looked at him with her mouth dropped open and tears threatened to spill over her eyes. “You’ve been doing this—all along?” He nodded, “since the beginning, pretty much.” He is patient for her answer. He’s waited all these years so he can wait a few more minutes. “You wanted to marry me when I wasn’t bein’ honest about likin’ ya?” He nodded, “when I broke up with ya?” another nod, “at uni when we argued all the time?” “Yes, girl” She still clutched the ring and words were coming out fast, “even though I’m late for everythin’ all the time and I’m a moody cow when I forget me meds, and I can’t cook for shit and kick you in my sleep?” He laughed and touched her beautiful face, “Rae, everythin’ I wrote in here are only _half_ of the reasons why I love ya.” But she can’t stop going, “And even when I went back to hospital and wouldn’t let ya visit and then was a right bitch when I came home? You wanted to get married? _To me_?” And right then is when the timer on his decade plus of patience ran out, “Rachel Earl—please for the love of god stop asking me daft questions and just answer my one? Will you marry me?” The tears fell and her face broke into a huge smile and her head nodded wildly as she took his hand from her cheek and began to write YES!! on his palm but he grabbed her and started kissing her before she could even complete the Y.

***

The morning of their wedding he’s in his house getting ready with his dad, Archie and Chop when his phone chimes. It’s a text from Rae who is getting ready with her mum and sister and Chloe and Izzy just a few miles away:

_Dear Finn,_

_Will you please marry me today?_

_I promise I will be on time to the chapel._

_Love,_

_Your Almost Missus Rae_

 

_Dear Rae,_

_No, you won’t be but I love ya anyway._

_I’ll see ya at the altar._

_Love,_

_I Can’t Bloody Wait to Call Ya My Missus Finn_

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Song for Someone / U2 (2014)


End file.
